The Bravest and Most Beautiful
by Vaughntronic
Summary: *Prequel to "Chivalry Is Definitely Not Dead"* Lancelot has been trying to dodge Gwaine's tavern adventures by asking Merlin round for cards. This time Merlin makes it. Did anyone mention that Merlin has a low wine tolerance? **Artwork by Wil1969**


**AN: *sigh* Dammit MoonFox... AGAIN.**

**AN: I do not own Merlin.**

* * *

><p>Lancelot fell into step next to Merlin as he sheathed his sword, pushing a gloved hand through his sweaty hair to get it off his forehead.<p>

"Merlin?" he said as he swooped low and caught the gauntlet that had just slipped from Merlin's over-burdened limbs.

"Thanks," Merlin breathed as he reclaimed it and perched it precariously back on top of the large pile of plate armor balancing in his arms.

"Let me help." Lancelot had removed his gloves and stuffed them into his belt and moved in front of Merlin to stop him.

"No, no... I've got it. It's alright. Really." Merlin smiled tiredly but Lancelot ignored him and started taking items out of Merlin's hands.

Merlin felt the relief of the lessened weight and sighed, making Lancelot smile. "Thanks. Really. I don't know why he can't just continue to practice in his armor. Maybe he just wants to play with his sword unencumbered."

Lancelot repressed a snort and settled on a small smile instead. "So, are we on for cards tonight?" He glanced sideways as they both resumed walking towards the entrance of the castle.

Merlin paused a moment. "Oh! It's Wednesday, isn't it? Right... Sure, I think. I just have to make sure his _Highness_ is looked after. He is awfully needy on training days." Merlin had jerked his head back towards where Arthur was still training with an exaggerated eye-roll.

Lancelot nodded his understanding. "Well, the sooner we get this to the Armory, the faster we can get started on the rest of your work."

"We?" said Merlin incredulously. "You don't need to help me... You're all... Knightly now." Merlin smiled genially. "Though, I probably wouldn't let you help me even if you weren't a Knight."

Lancelot shrugged. "If I do not have the excuse of playing cards with you, then I do not have an excuse to turn Gwaine down for the tavern. There is only so often a man - who isn't Gwaine, mind - can go to the tavern, Merlin. I am relying on your distraction. I intend to ensure it by helping you get your chores done before midnight."

Lancelot said this all so sincerely, if Merlin had not been watching the slow smile creep across his features, he might not have recognized that Lancelot was playing with him. Though, he knew the man would try to help him, all joking aside.

They both rounded a corner and Lancelot gave way to Merlin for him to cross into the Armory first.

Merlin unloaded his arms with a loud clatter as all of the Prince's armor fell onto a table. He bent over it huddling it all together before standing gingerly, waiting for the structural integrity of the pile to fail. When he was satisfied that the armor was not going to start rolling off onto the floor, he grinned and stepped to Lancelot to take the items he had been carrying.

Lancelot handed them over one by one until he pushed his sweaty hands down his breeches to dry them.

* * *

><p>Merlin put his hands on his hips staring at the large pile with a small frown on his face. "Well..." he hedged. "Arthur did not expressly <em>say<em> I had to polish the armor tonight." He turned to grin at Lancelot and saw the Knight starting, and struggling, to coax a leather strap on his bracer free.

Without asking, Merlin's hands replaced Lancelot's and made quick work of the item before continuing on to the next bracer, as if this was entirely natural behavior.

Indeed it was... For Merlin. Lancelot on the other hand felt a bit flustered. Merlin just naturally gravitated towards helping. Anyone, really. Knights, maids, Lords, manservants. But for Lancelot, it felt strange. He was still just a commoner in his own head, so having Merlin aid him in things that he had handled himself all his life felt... Wrong.

Not wrong because he did not welcome Merlin's help, or thought that the man was poor at his job, but wrong because he did not see himself above Merlin. In fact, in Lancelot's mind, Merlin was just as worthy of being undressed as he was.

When this last thought presented itself to Lancelot he coughed distractedly. He had not intended the thought to have an undertone, but when he found that it did, he was not entirely able to stop the pink tinge that threatened up his skin.

Thankfully Merlin was just starting to tug the chainmail up over Lancelot's head when this occurred, and the Knight used the time to will the blush away and mask the small cough as though he was clearing a dusty throat.

Once Merlin had laid Lancelot's mail onto another nearby table, he reached for the waterskin on his belt and handed it to the Knight who looked confused.

"Sounds like you need to wet your throat," Merlin said in explanation.

"Ah. Yes. Indeed," replied Lancelot and he cleared his throat again before taking a drink and passing it back. "So what's next?"

"Next, you go do whatever it is you Knight's do after training, and I go see to Arthur's bath and dinner. I promise I will be there this time. I won't let Arthur keep me."

Lancelot raised an eyebrow. "Merlin. You can't make promises like that. If Arthur needs you, he needs you."

"He doesn't _need_ me. I often think he just likes to boss me around. Besides, if he becomes too much of a handful, I can just knock him out." Merlin wiggled his fingers, not actually producing any magic.

Lancelot got the point though and permitted himself a chuckle. "That would not be very smart. Perhaps you should just do your work and I will see you when you can get away."

Merlin shrugged in defeat. "Yeah, you're right... Well! Best get to it!" And with that, Merlin patted Lancelot's shoulder as he left the room. The Knight watched him retreat with a fond smile playing around his lips.

* * *

><p>At around 8:30pm - only a half-an-hour later than the usual agreed-upon time - Merlin knocked at Lancelot's door.<p>

When Lancelot opened it revealing his candle-tinged and welcoming room, he was greeted by a scowling and ruffled looking Merlin.

Lancelot stepped back, a silent invitation for Merlin to enter, and the lanky man did so, offering a large wine jug to Lancelot as he passed. "I come bearing necessities."

Lancelot took it and closed the door behind Merlin. "Arthur?" Lancelot asked, not having to give the question any more description.

Merlin nodded and raked a long-fingered hand down his face at an agonizing pace. Though, Lancelot noticed as his hand dropped back to his side, the annoyed look on his features seemed to have dropped away with it.

"Well, let's not think on that, then!" Lancelot distracted as he moved to a the small table in the corner of his room.

There was on candle in the middle and a battered deck of cards with two goblets. Lancelot poured the wine into both and handed Merlin one before sitting down.

Merlin followed suit. Every minute more he spent in the room he seemed to unwind. This room was just as Lancelot is. Calming. A place of even-temperament and contentment. He settled back into his chair, allowing his long legs to stretch out around one of the legs of the table.

Lancelot sat quietly, allowing Merlin this moment, which he suspected, were few and far between for the servant.

Merlin took one drink of the wine before pulling himself upright and reaching for the deck of cards. "Right, then... Alouette?"

Lancelot nodded his agreement and set his goblet down, beginning to claim cards as Merlin flung them at the table in front of him.

The played several hands of the game, sometimes in utter silence other than exclaiming over unexpected wins and seemingly disturbing luck on Merlin's part.

"Are you using magic?" Lancelot shot a suspicious glance at Merlin as he set his cards down on the table folding his arms.

Merlin looked entirely too innocent. "Certainly not! I would never! I am offended you would even think that, you know!"

Lancelot's head lowered towards his chest as he laughed at Merlin's feigned indignance. "At least we are not playing for coin. I would be broke and without clothes on my back after a game with you."

Merlin shrugged, having a thought that Lancelot could not quite read on his features. Before he could think too hard on it, it had passed.

* * *

><p>Both men leaned back in their chairs and claimed their goblets, settling in for a break. Merlin liked it here. He so rarely got any time to do things of this nature, and he found himself wishing this had become part of his life sooner - that Lancelot had been here the entire time. For as long as he should have been. Without the gap in between.<p>

"Why did you leave?" Merlin disrupted the silence with his low question. His voice was mildly subdued, thinking about the time when he had seen Lancelot again only to watch him disappear for the second time.

Lancelot paused over his goblet just about to take a drink before he aborted it and lowered the glass with his eyebrows raised. "You know why. I lied." Lancelot's voice betrayed the guilt he still felt over his initial contact with Knighthood.

Merlin shook his head and met Lancelot's eyes, he was beginning to feel the effects of the wine. He was not accustomed to drinking, so all it took was a bit before the fringe effects - like being prone to asking personal questions - started to surface as they were now. "Not that time. The other time."

Merlin's fingers began twitching nervously on the edges of his goblet at the look on Lancelot's face. It had fallen slightly and he seemed to pale a bit in the flickering light. Merlin felt instantly bad for bringing it up, but he was also desperate to know. He had missed him. If he was honest, part of it was to do with Lancelot knowing his secret, and he had longed for that friendship to be closer to home, but there was also the fact that he -liked- Lancelot. Quite a bit, actually. More so now that they had begun to spend time together outside of the tight circle of Knights.

Lancelot took a deep and steadying breath. He considered telling Merlin what the warlock already knew. Parroting what he had said at the time - he did not wish to come between Guinevere and Arthur - but he knew that Merlin suspected there was more to it, and Lancelot would no longer tell lies.

"I was angry with her." Lancelot confessed it into the room like a tossed knife, quick and without pause. He looked ashamed, though, and did not look at Merlin. "She gave me her heart in that place. She told me she loved me, that she always would, and she kissed me."

Merlin reeled back a bit, a frown lingering on his brow. He recalled the confession of Arthur's by the water on their way to Gwen's rescue. He recalled telling Arthur that Guinevere would wait for him... He had been nudging the Prince into accepting his feelings for her. Was she confessing her love to Lancelot somewhere in the darkness of captivity at that very moment when Arthur was confessing his love for her to Merlin?

This made Merlin's stomach roil unhappily. It was not easy to discern the variety of emotions he was feeling, but it included a bit of anger, disgust, and guilt that he was suddenly suffering negativity for one of his best friends. He loved Gwen, but he could not help the smallest voice in his head that asked him with whom her heart actually lay.

Lancelot read Merlin's face and softened. "Do not think badly of her. I do not think her intentions were impure. I just think that perhaps her heart was not fully hers to give."

Merlin's frown stayed locked in place, but he watched Lancelot carefully, his silence asking him to continue.

"It was she who saved me that day. Her love is what brought me back to myself. When I had left Camelot the first time, I sought to find myself, but all I did was get lost. My purposes and my goals were no longer valid, and my morals waned. I was ashamed of what I had become... But when she grasped my hand and looked at me the way she did..." Lancelot trailed off and took a drink.

Merlin mirrored the action at a loss for how to respond... "I missed you." He blurted out. "It was hard to see you again and then watch you wander into the night. Again." Merlin became less sure of his little announcement as it went on, and it tapered off into a whisper that he stoppered again with more wine - which might not have been wise.

Merlin set his now-empty goblet back to the table and licked the dregs from his lips. "Then you answered my letter and returned." He had come this far, he mine as well finish the thought. "I'm glad you're here."

Lancelot shifted in his seat and then rose to retrieve the jug of wine that he had left on the nearby dresser. With his back turned he felt braver. "I'm glad I'm... Here... Too." He had emphasized _'here'_. He was not sure whether it was on purpose or whether or not Merlin caught on to it, but there it was. He was happy to be... _Here_... In this room. Right now. With Merlin.

He stepped over to Merlin who had picked up his discarded hand of cards and was eyeing them distractedly. When Lancelot put a hand on his shoulder to get his attention, Merlin jumped slightly and quickly pushed the cards against his chest. "You are not trying to cheat are you?" Merlin said with a cheeky grin that dissipated some of the tension in the room.

"Says the man who used magic to beat me all night." Lancelot still had not moved his hand, and he lifted the jug slightly in a silent question of _'more?_'

Merlin shook his head. "Best not. Tomorrow is an early day for the royal prat, and he is grouchy in the morning. I need good rest to handle him." Merlin tilted his head back and upwards against the back of the chair to look up at Lancelot who was smiling back at him.

* * *

><p>The dissipated tension made a sudden reappearance and Merlin was certain that his heart beat would be heard in the silence.<p>

The air in the room was all but screaming at them to look away. To break it. To step back, but neither man complied.

"Merlin," Lancelot said in the lowest whisper. It was not shaped like a question, but there was no mistaking the intent.

"Yes." Again, in any normal situation it would have been like Lancelot calling his name to get his attention and him responding with _'yes?_' to ask him what it was he needed... But this was not that. This was asked permission and Merlin granted it without needing to think.

Lancelot leaned down over Merlin's face and gently pressed wine-kissed lips to his. Their eyes slipped closed and they did not move against each other, they were just still. Not awkwardly still, but still like you might want to savor something, get the sense of it and how it feels against you. It was soft and not soft at the same time. Strong jaws met with soft lips, and Merlin's hands fell to the edge of the table grasping it's edge unconsciously.

It was only when Lancelot felt the wine jug start to slip from his fingers that he pulled back. Both men opened their eyes slowly. Lancelot was still leaned over Merlin, searching his gaze and Merlin did the same. Both seemed uncertain and stunned, and the look on Lancelot's face made Merlin stand slowly. Lancelot stepped back as Merlin rose, but did not increase the distance between them. They only changed the nature of it.

Merlin could not help but look at the Knight's lips which were parted slightly, his olive skin tinged a bit with embarrassment and desire. Merlin was drawn to him and leaned forward, taking his turn to initiate contact. He kissed the corner of Lancelot's mouth, once, then twice, moving further onto the soft lips as he went in for the third time.

At this, Lancelot tilted his head and met the kiss tenderly, and more openly. He parted his lips and the movement began. It was chaste and sweet, and they kissed each other lightly, tilting their heads and brushing noses, still with inches between them, though Merlin's long fingers had fidgeted into the hem of Lancelot's shirt. Not in an attempt to divest him of it, but more in a twitchy Merlin way - wanting to hang onto something tangible while his head swam with wine and Lancelot.

It was over too soon for them both, and when they finally pulled away, Merlin dropped his hand and licked the taste of Lancelot on his lips. He was too enraptured to do any serious thinking on the matter, but what he did know was that Lancelot was beautiful and being chosen for this - whatever this was - had Merlin's stomach knotting pleasantly into butterflies.

Lancelot touched Merlin's hand and pulled his fingers towards the door. "You should get some sleep. I don't want Arthur torturing you all day for staying out too late."

Merlin nodded and looked at their fingers. "Right," he said embarrassingly breathy.

Lancelot opened the door and stepped into the hall with Merlin, their hands still holding lightly to each other's fingers. "Goodnight, Merlin."

"Night." Merlin whispered it like they were sharing a secret that no one else would ever be allowed to hear, and Lancelot answered by bringing his fingers to Merlin's face, gently brushing the edge of his jaw and his ear as he leaned in one final time. A slow push of his lips again Merlin's and then it was over.

Merlin's eyes lingered closed and he felt the skin of his face tingle and burn. His magic was awake now, and something about that last kiss made Merlin understand why. It was... Perfect... It terrified Merlin with the feeling it left nestled in his stomach and there was a definite clench in his chest that promised to torture him later.

Just when Merlin was about to lose himself into a blissful and confusing inner monologue he heard footsteps echoing through the halls.

The two stunned men shifted their stance to put space between them, but right as Lancelot pushed away from Merlin, the blonde head of the Prince came into view.

Merlin uttered a swear word that was not typical of him, and Lancelot raised an eyebrow at it before looking at the Prince, trying to plaster a look of polite greeting on his face.

Arthur got one look at the two men - namely Merlin - who had no ability to smooth his features down so quickly. His footsteps faltered for the shortest of seconds as he took in the scene, and then he kept coming, seemingly un-phased. As he passed by the two men, he inclined his head at Lancelot without really looking, and said; "Get to bed, Merlin. You know I cannot stand it when you are utterly useless in the morning."

Merlin's lip curled and the jab brought him back to himself. "I thought I was always useless, _Sir_e."

"That you are," said Arthur, still continuing to walk away, not looking back.

Merlin looked put-out. He seldom lost a banter-fight, but this time, he had walked right into the Prince's trap. What had he seen? This, more than the loss of the argument was what started to gnaw on Merlin.

Thankfully, though, the sudden - and now alarming - appearance of Arthur had brought the heightened levels of the moment back down to something more reasonable and familiar, and Merlin took that moment to smile shyly at Lancelot and sidle down the wall in the direction of his chambers. "I really better get off to bed." His eye trailed after where Arthur had just left, worry coating hiss voice

Lancelot smiled and nodded at him. "Indeed." He sounded as though he were injecting calm into his voice, sensing Merlin's turmoil, and trying to dispel it.

"Well... Goodnight... Again." Merlin offered a shaky wave and mentally chided himself.

"Goodnight, Merlin."


End file.
